


Furiously Interested in You

by Aoki



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Jack's POV, Jackanda, ME2, Slow Burn, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-09 13:30:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12888897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoki/pseuds/Aoki
Summary: Set in ME2 shortly after their fight, Jack slowly starts to realise that Miranda is more than the Cerberus uniform she wears.





	1. Chapter 1

Jack is laying in her bunk, arms crossed behind her head. Simmering. Miranda’s words are still echoing through her head: “It wasn’t Cerberus, not really. But clearly you were a mistake.”

The cheerleader’s a joke. She always acts so _hoity toity_ , like she's above it all. Mere mortals can’t touch her. When Shepard came to break up the fight, Jack saw the stupid smug look on the cheerleader’s face. The way the bitch was looking at _her_! Miranda probably thinks she’s on some moral high ground, and it makes Jack’s blood _boil_ **_._ ** _How dare she! How dare she deny it!_ She’s just trying to worm her way out of the blame so she can sleep at night.

Shepard had to practically pry them apart. Jack wouldn’t have listened except she owes the commander big time for breaking her out, no questions asked. It’s probably just as well. No matter how perfect the cheerleader thinks she is, there’s no way she would be a match for Jack. Jack would have spit her limb from limb. Slowly. Miranda had better be thanking her lucky stars that Shepard is such a fucking _goody-two-shoes_.

Jack rolls onto her side, crossing her arms over her chest. And it’s so stupid that the bitch is denying it; she’s the spitting image of those cunts on Pragia. They were all covered in tight, rubbery clothing too. In fact, the vast majority of people who have pissed off Jack have been dressed like that. It’s as if they have to make it so fucking tight that that their consciences don’t get out. They’re all the fucking same. It makes Jack want to gag.

Hearing Miranda say that Cerberus wasn’t responsible for what happened may as well have come from scientist’s mouths as far as Jack is concerned.

What really gets Jack furious is how calm the cheerleader was when she said it. She even had a little smile on her face as she said it. She really has no fucking clue. She’s probably never felt anything in her fucking life. How could she just not care? Maybe the cheerleader is so perfect that she can’t even understand pain. Maybe she gets off on it. The likely truth is that Miranda just thinks she’s above all that shit.

Jack just wants to do something, anything, to see the Cheerleader react. She wants to forcibly rip that calm smile off her perfect face. She wants her to understand. She wants her to _know_ and acknowledge to Jack what _Cerberus_ did was wrong and fucked up. And the only way Jack knows how to teach anyone anything is through pain. She’s learned from the best after all.

A smile comes to Jack’s face as she imagines all the ways she’s mutilated and killed people in the past. She starts to imagine all the things she could do to the cheerleader after they’ve stormed the collector base. Perhaps, boil her eyeballs before snapping her back in half. Shit, the bones would be sticking out. Jack would have to fillet her. Jack barks a laugh into the darkness. Even just thinking of violence gives her a warm, fuzzy feeling. She supposes that she has at least one reason to make it out of the suicide mission alive.

 

***

 

Things cool down over the next few days. The cheerleader seems to be actively avoiding her, and as usual, so do the crew. Jack’s used to it, although there’s a dark sticky feeling in her gut that she has to consciously ignore. Ever since she was a child, she’s been the outsider. Nobody ever talks to her unless they want something. Sometimes they don’t even ask. If her fate is to be an outcast, then she may as well be a badass bitch while she’s at it.

She’s on her way to the mess hall when the inevitable happens. There are only so many places you can go on one ship. There’s a particularly vacuum sealed someone in line to get rations from the Mess Sergeant. Jack’s stomach growls. Loudly. The cheerleader turns around and there’s no backing away from this now.

Jack joins the line directly behind Miranda. She’s so hungry that she doesn’t even care about Gardner’s piss poor cooking skills. But Miranda is still looking at her. The cerberus insignia on her left lapel is burning into Jack’s brain.

"Thought you were above all of this." Jack says, remarkably restrained under the circumstances.

"Above eating?" The cheerleader raises one eyebrow.

"I wouldn’t put it past you.” Jack snorts. “But I figured you’d be getting some gourmet shit delivered straight to your room. You know, seeming as you’re better than everyone after all."

Miranda’s expression betrays nothing. “Believe it or not Jack, I’m a person too”.

“Sure doesn’t seem like it.” Jack can’t help herself.

Miranda blinks slowly and fixes Jack with an icy stare. “Shepard said to be -- civil. I won’t engage with you.” She shakes her head at Jack, patronizingly.

It ticks Jack off all over again. “Oh I’m being civil cheerleader. Believe me I am. But you, you tell everyone you meet they were a mistake, huh? You don’t even care.”

Without a word, Miranda just takes her food and starts retreating to her room.

“I’m not done with you yet!” Jack interjects.

Miranda doesn’t even break her step.

"BITCH! Just to wait until all this is over! I’ll--”

Miranda locks her door behind her.

Jack swears to herself and takes her own plate.

 

***

 

Later on, it’s almost the end of the rest cycle and Jack is both wide awake and utterly exhausted at the same time. It’s not an unusual occurrence.

She _hates_ the quiet between missions. It’s only her and her own thoughts.

Usually she would get at her bottle of whiskey, but it’s run out. With the ship currently being in the arsehole of nowhere, she won’t be getting any more soon. It really has been a long, clusterfuck of a road to get here.

She stares up at the ceiling. She's fucked up. The world's fucked up. It's a good thing she’s taking on the collectors. Even if she dies, there's a chance there'll be one less fucked up thing in the world.

Jack doesn't even honestly know how much she cares about surviving the collector base. It's fucking pointless. She hurts so much. And for what?

_But if you die you won’t get to kick the Cerberus cheerleader’s sorry arse._

Jack’s startled by her own thought. Why is she so invested in the cheerleader specifically? Sure, kicking Cerberus ass is always enjoyable, but she never thought she’d have a _preference._ Jack puts it down to how much the bitch has been getting under her skin lately.

Yeah, it’s definitely something about that perfect, smug smile. It’s tattooed on the inside of her skull. Jack rubs her face. She feels like utter shit tonight. Her mind won’t sit still. She forces her eyes shut.

After some time of unsuccessfully trying to sleep, nature calls and Jack reluctantly heads to the bathroom.

As she's leaving the bathroom, it’s just her luck. She bumps into the fucking cheerleader for the second time this cycle. Jack could scream out of exasperation and crumple at the same time. For once, she's just too fucking tired for this shit.

Jack leans against the door frame, lightheaded.

But for once, the Cheerleader isn't in her skintight cheer-suit. She's in blue flannelette pyjamas. They've got little white clouds on them. Jack doesn’t know why this changes things, but it does and she can’t quite put her finger on it.

"Jack, are you just going to stand there all night? I need the bathroom." Miranda taps her foot impatiently.

Jack looks at Miranda’s face properly, her eyes are red and puffy. She’s looking down like she’s hiding something. Maybe she was huffing red sand? Jack smiles at the image in her head. That’s about as likely as Jacob getting laid.

Miranda taps her foot again. "Jack!". Oh, she’s blocking the doorway. Right.

Jack rubs her face and mumbles  'Sorry'. She lets Miranda pass.

Miranda looks at her with a strange expression that Jack is not able to decode right now. She heads back down to her quarters and falls asleep as soon as she hits the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a disclaimer, I don't know what I'm doing. Buut, there does need to be more Jackranda in the world. Just doing my duty.
> 
> This is probably my second fanfic, and the first one with chapters. I've got a fair bit drafted already and it's probably going to be a lot longer than I think it will be. Let's see how we go! Thanks for reading so far!


	2. Chapter 2

Shepard heard about the shouting in the dinner line because of course she has. Nothing fucking gets past her. She doesn’t _say_ anything of course, she doesn't need to. What she does do is pick Jack and the cheerleader for the ground team on the next mission. Jack supposes that this is obviously Shepard’s way of making them _play nice_. Something something team building. Just perfect.

It should be a straightforward recon mission, they’re headed down to Aequitas after picking up some shit on the scanners.Unusual life readings or something. Jack doesn’t fucking know. It doesn’t matter too much anyway. Shepard will just point Jack in the direction of anyone who needs a biotic beating and she’ll get it done. Without _teamwork_.

There’s not much room in the shuttle, but the cheerleader has managed to avoid Jack’s eye contact the whole time.

The cheerleader in question turns to Shepard.“The scanner picked up anomalous life signs at the mining site. What do you think it might be?”

“Could be anything-- geth, a malfunctioning computer, collectors-- we’ll just have to see when we get there.” Shepard responds.

“So if it is geth, what do you think is the best course of action?” asks the cheerleader.

Shepard responds, but Jack tunes out. None of this is important. Jack’s certain that all these questions are just a cover so that the cheerleader doesn’t have to acknowledge Jack. There’s only so much shit you can plan beforehand.

She folds her arms across her chest, leans back, and stares straight ahead. She notes that the Cerberus suit is clinging to the cheerleader like mucus as always. Her tits look amazing and Jack is angry that she’s even acknowledging it. Miranda’s the very image of Cerberus scum with her vacuum-sealed body and cold-ass stare. She could be on the fucking recruiting posters.

And yet Jack’s can't get the thought of Miranda in her pyjamas out of her head. It’s irritating. It makes her seem uncomfortably like a real person instead of _Cerberus_. Almost. Jack’s looking forward to getting on the ground so she can get it all out of her system.

Why does she even have pyjamas? Jack always figured that Miranda slept in her skin suit with how obsessed she is with maintaining her perfect image at all times. There’s no way she’s anything more than the stone cold, spandex-clad Cerberus cunt she appears to be.

And even if she wasn’t with Cerberus, that wouldn't’ change anything. Although Jack admits that she knows surprisingly little about Miranda as a person. But the cheerleader seems like the kind of person to always be a bureaucratic cunt, whatever situation she’s in. _So what_ if Jack doesn’t have Miranda completely figured out. What she does know is that Miranda’s a little primadona bitch princess.

Shepard excuses herself from the cheerleader’s inane questions by triple checking her gun.

She hums an old spacefaring song. Knowing Shepard, she's probably thinking about whether she can scavenge any eezo or something. She's been obsessed with upgrading anything she can get her hands on ever since Garrus convinced her to spring for a thanix cannon upgrade. Well, that and being obsessed with Garrus. Jack sniggers, even if neither of them have realised it.

The cheerleader looks ready to ask Shepard another question, but seems to think better of it. Her eyes flick to Jack. Jack raises her eyebrows and the cheerleader purses her lips for a moment before tossing her head.

The shuttle is silent for the remainder of the journey.

 

***

 

They descend through clouds the colour of sewerage. The ground beneath them is craggy and the light barely penetrates the thick atmosphere.A heavy rain pelts the windows with droplets.

The shuttle touches down and their bodies all rock with the impact.

Shepard, Jack and Miranda exit the shuttle and make their way to the mine entrance marked on their navpoint. The ground is squidgy beneath their boots.

The cheerleader follows slightly behind Jack and Shepard, choosing her footsteps carefully. Jack has no clue what Cerberus fuckwit thought heels were all-terrain.

They enter the mines through a  rocky archway. It's even more damp and it smells acrid, like unrefined eezo. The three of them edge forward and Shepard catches sight of a husk just to the right of them.

"Shit". Shepard shoots it in the forehead.

The husk crumples. Shepard walks over, nudges the husk with her foot, and presses a hand to her earpiece.

"Joker, we got husks down here".

"Are you really surprised, commander?" he responds over the commlink.

Shepard doesn't respond, but motions for Jack and the cheerleader to follow. Her face is deadly serious.

 

***

 

They can hear the dripping of water on stone as they continue forward. It's getting darker the further they get in. Jack's about to switch on her torch when they're ambushed by three husks and an abomination.

They start shooting. Shepard and Jack deal with the husks quickly, but the abomination heads straight for the cheerleader.

She’s firing frantically, but she’s not getting through its armour quick enough. Her eyes are wide as it lunges towards her face.

 Jack lifts the abomination into the air, A warp and a few shots from Shepard and it’s dead. Or dead-er.

And yet the cheerleader always acts like she’s a gift from the gods.

It falls to the floor and Miranda doesn’t even bat an eyelash. She steps over the body smoothly. She’s the fucking princess of pretending she’s got it under control.

“Thank you Shepard” she says, completely blanking Jack.

Jack engages her warp ammo a little too roughly and rolls her eyes.

Shepard nods vaguely and heads over to an Iridium cache. She quickly tags it for retrieval and picks up a datapad from a bench.

Shepard examines the datapad briefly. “Looks like some shit went down here”, she tosses the datapad back. “God I hate reapers”.

A husk drops from the ceiling in front of Jack. Out of instinct, she punches it square in the jaw. God, that felt good. A familiar, warm feeling fills her chest. With a yell she lifts it into the air with her biotics. She’s just about to warp it to pieces when Miranda shoots it in the head.

The warm feeling disappears abruptly. Jack throws her warp field at the ground and turns to Miranda, livid. The cheerleader looks Jack dead in the eye and smirks. That fucking bitch. Jack could literally _kill_ her right now but she’s standing right next to Shepard. Of course she’s doing it absolutely on fucking purpose.

Miranda tosses her hair and starts down the next passageway. Her hips are waggling in a way that could be natural or intentional. There’s something about her stride combined with her suit that just draws Jack’s eyes inexplicably to the cheerleader’s ass. Motherfucker.

She looks over to see if Shepard’s equally enraptured, but instead spots her speed-hacking a safe. Apparently not then.

 

***

 

The passageway winds around and nearly doubles back on itself before they come to another chamber. Several more husks crawl out from shitholes in the rock and rush headfirst into their waiting crossfire.

“You know what I hate about husks...” says Shepard as she’s reloading.

“What?” asks Jack.

Shepard slams the face of a husk into the ground with her biotics.“...they remind me that the Council doesn’t believe in any of this shit.”

She shoves her omniblade into the neck of another. “There’s so much they should be doing”. Wiring and stale blood spills out as it crashes to the ground.

“Pity you didn’t leave them to die on the Destiny Ascension”. Jack fires a few rounds into a husk’s chest. The narcotic hum in her brain is starting to sing again.

“I do wonder sometimes” Shepard laughs. She fires her pistol and incinerates the final husk in the room.

She turns to Jack. “But I think I made the right call.”.

Shepard then beelines to another mineral cache.

 

***

 

After some time of fucking over husks and going ever deeper into the mines, EDI comes over the comms.

“Shepard, I detect a powerful alien signature deep within the mines. It appears the device is the source of the husks. It is likely that destroying it will stop them.”

Shepard stretches her shoulder. “Thanks Edi”. She reloads her gun and sets off into the nearest passage.

More fucking husks than they’ve seen yet converge on them. It’s like they’re appearing out of thin air. They run straight into the gunfire, but just keep coming. One gets close enough to Shepard to take a swipe.

The cheerleader’s arms glow blue and she slams the ground with a respectable shockwave. The husks get stunned long enough for Shepard and Jack to dispatch them. Five more come over the ridge at the end of the passageway.

Shepard empties her rifle into them, and three of them burn up. Jack lifts one to oblivion. But the one they missed and another husk they didn’t see coming converge on Shepard. She smacks them a few times until they’re still.

As Shepard’s punching, Jack shoots another three that have dropped from the ceiling, but then one sneaks past her defenses and starts clawing at her shields. Shepard turns and concentrates fire on Jack’s husk.

Jack takes a quick look around and notices the cheerleader pursued by three husks. She’s backpedalling so they don’t get too close, and she drops one of them with an overload of sparks.

Shepard turns her attention to another two or so husks running over to the ridge and dispatches them swiftly. Another three take their place.

“There’s too many! I’m going to go try and punch through to shut this thing down.” she says before running off into the hordes of husks.

Jack swears and stays out of the husks reach as much as possible. She walks steadily backwards until she’s behind the cheerleader, who deals a another shockwave to a group converging around her. Jack helps her pick them off.

Miranda looks over to Jack in surprise and then shoots her a battle mad grin. Jack grins back despite herself and deploys a warp field to the nearest husk, it’s shrieks are like music in Jack’s ears. They should be able to hold out until Shepard does whatever she needs to do.

And then four husks drop down from the ceiling above Miranda, overwhelming her almost instantly. She struggles and uses her own warp field on one of them. She’s shooting madly, but there are just too many. 

Jack looks over and feels a sense of panic replacing her usual battle-fuzzies. Four more husks run towards Jack and she shockwaves the floor with raw biotic force. They’re only stunned. She steals a glance over to Miranda and watches her shields flicker out. Not good.

One of the husks latches onto Jack. She kicks it in the stomach and lifts it into the air. Shepard had better fucking hurry up.

Miranda falls to the floor.The husks pile up on her.

Jack hears a faint explosion. She’s going to fucking kick Shepard’s sorry arse when they get out of this.

A few of the husks clawing at Miranda lose interest and start heading towards Jack. As if she didn’t have any more to deal with. Jack strains and manages to lift two of them off the ground with one hand. Her implant buzzes dangerously. She manages to get in a few shots at the husks still running towards her. 

Shepard had better fucking get her act together.

The husks have closed in on her. She feels a pop as her own shields burst. Sure as hell can’t keep this up forever.

There’s another faint explosion.

She hasn’t fully recharged yet, but she sends another shockwave into the floor anyway. An instant migraine cuts through her brain. Strange auras dance in her vision. The husks just keep coming. They press in on her. She’s starting to lose blood. Shepard should be any minute now.

Jack’s forced to the ground as the husks surge in on her. She braces herself against the rocky floor.

She hears a third explosion. The husks go limp.

Thank fucking god.

Jack crawls out from under the pile of husks and looks over to Miranda.

Miranda’s scratched up, crumpled, and out cold. Her skinsuit was surprisingly effective in protecting her from the brunt of the attack, but she's not in great shape.

Jack tries to get up but her ankle feels _wrong_. It doesn’t hurt too much yet, but she expects that will change when her adrenaline recedes. Fucking Hell. With a grimace she manages to hobble over to Miranda’s side. She fishes a dose of medigel out of her cargo pant pocket.

She levers herself down near Miranda’s head. Shakily, she peels the paper off the adhesive backing of the medigel patch. Miranda doesn’t have too much exposed skin, so Jack just smacks the activated medigel packet on Miranda’s chest.

She leans back and massages her head. She feels like utter shit. Her brain is beating itself to bits against her implant and she might just throw up. Hopefully Shepard will have another pack of medigel when she gets back.

After a few seconds, the cuts on Miranda’s face and chest subside. Her breathing becomes more regular and the grimace of pain on her face smooths out.

A few minutes pass and her eyes open slowly. Miranda turns to Jack. For once, she’s looking at Jack openly, without judgement. Her hand goes to the medigel on her chest. Usually it’s only Shepard who carries them.

“Thank you”. Miranda croaks quietly. She really seems to mean it.

Jack watches her lips move and gets a sudden strange, traitorous urge to kiss them. Instead, she leans back and looks at the wall. She puts the urge down to a side effect of her migraine.

“No problem”.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm extremely new to this! This came out a lot longer than I was expecting. This started as only 900 words!


	3. Chapter 3

“Well, what have we here? Is Shepard getting you all into trouble again?” says Chakwas as Jack and Miranda are brought into the medbay.

The medigel Shepard brought back helped, but Jack still feels like shit.There’s still an intermittent buzzing in her brain that feels like electric shocks and she’s feeling light headed. Thank fucking _god_ the migraine has downgraded to a mere headache.

Thanks to the medigel, Jack’s ankle is mostly healed. Chakwas applies some strapping for additional support. After running a quick scan, she gives Jack some medication for her implants.

“If you take it easy on the biotics for the next few days, those brain shocks should settle down. Let me know tomorrow morning if they haven’t improved. I’ll keep you overnight for observation. It’s always better to be cautious with brain injuries.”

Jack nods, too exhausted to protest her detainment, and lies back down. Chakwas smiles kindly in return and heads over to the next bed. Jack’s eyes follow her.  

Miranda’s sitting upright with her hands resting between her thighs. Jack notices her legs dangling over the side of the bed. Chakwas runs some scans and frowns.

“There’s healing tissue around your lungs, which explains why you lost consciousness. I’m guessing the cause was blunt trauma. It’s a good thing Jack got to you with the medigel when she did, you’re in surprisingly good shape”.

Miranda nods wearily. Even in such a shitty state, she still manages to seem in control. She must use a similar industrial strength makeup to Jack, because it hasn’t budged an inch.

And maybe it’s just because Jack’s mind and body is so tender and raw; but she’s getting powerful tingly feelings just looking at the cheerleader. She’s just so fucking smoking hot like eight hundred percent of the time. Jack closes her eyes and lets the waves of emotion crash around her.

Gradually the muffled voice of Chakwas gives way to dreams of dark hair and liquid silk.

 

***

 

A few days later, the Normandy is in transit to the Citadel. Jack has healed completely. Thankfully, her thoughts about the cheerleader have mostly fucked off. She’s been too busy resting to even come in contact with Miranda. Chakwas would be pleased.

It’s currently the middle of the rest cycle. At 02:30, Jack’s eyes snap open.

She feels as if several thousand volts have been applied to her chest. In her dream, she was back at Pragia. Again. She takes several deep breaths and rubs her eyes. The impassive faces of the scientists there are crisp in her mind’s eye.

No hope of getting the fuck back to sleep now then.

Grumbling audibly, Jack levers herself up to a sitting position and rubs her face. She'd kill for a drink right now. Unfortunately, her personal reserves are out and the lounge is locked down for maintenance.

There's definitely a secret stash in the kitchen. Shepard doesn't think anyone knows about it. But since it’s the middle of the night, nobody else should be there to judge.

Jack gets up with another grumble and stumbles up to the crew deck. As she exits the lift, her heart sinks. Who does she see at the kitchen bench but the captain cheerleader herself. Fucking hell. Jack stops before Miranda sees her. It’s obvious Miranda also knows about Shepard’s ‘secret’ bottle of cheap whiskey, because she’s staring into a half-full glass of the stuff.

Jack could just go back to her cot without another sound, but Pragia's still at the forefront of her mind. She really doesn’t want to spend any more time with old ghosts tonight. The whiskey will help a fuck-ton. She swaggers forward as casually as possible.

Despite the hour, Miranda's dressed in her skintight cheerleader uniform. Jack gets a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. She’s not sure if it’s attraction or disgust. It’s best not to think about it. Jack can’t be bothered to deal with even _more_ feelings right now.

Jack pulls up a seat beside Miranda. Miranda doesn’t react.

"Cheerleader, I didn't know anyone else knew about Shepard's secret stash". She pours herself a glass.

“Yeah” Miranda responds. She continues to stare into her glass as if it contains all of the mysteries of the universe.

"So what are you up here for? Contemplating your latest dance routine?" says Jack.

Miranda’s head whirls around, "Will you just shut it!".

Jack raises her eyebrows and sips on her drink. “Wow, thought you were too--” she practically spits the word “-- _perfect_ for outbursts”.

Miranda continues to glower at Jack and then eventually finishes off her drink in one go. “It’s been a rough night.”

Jack’s not sure how to react. Before, she might have made some quip about how Miranda’s life can’t possibly as hard as Jack’s had it. Something stops her. Instead, she downs her own glass and says “You and me both”.

Miranda pours them both another drink. Neither of them say anything further, which works just fine. They sit and sip on their whiskies in companionable silence.

 

***

 

In the coming days, the cheerleader avoids Jack less than normal. She even says “hello” in the corridors once or twice.

On more than one occasion, Jack catches Miranda staring at her across the room which gives Jack an instant and unfamiliar fluttery feeling in her stomach. She’s admits that the cheerleader is growing on her, even if she does have some shitty opinions.

Jack reflects that there hasn't really been much time in the shithole of a life she's had so far to pay much attention to other people in general. But now she’s curious about the cheerleader. She wants see what’s beneath the Cheerleader’s unbreachable surface.

More importantly, she wants to convince Miranda that it was _Cerberus_ that fucked her over.

 

***

 

Just after they’ve stopped at the Citadel, Jack gets a message on her omnitool from Miranda. It’s titled ‘Peacemaking’. Miranda’s invited Jack to her office to call a truce.


	4. Chapter 4

Jack enters Miranda's office. It's strange being here, she feels out of place among Miranda’s scrupulously ordered possessions. Miranda is seated at her desk, working. She smiles and gestures for Jack to sit at one of two soft chairs facing a large window. Jack sits at the seat closest to the door.

Miranda leaves her computer and joins Jack. She magnanimously pours Jack a healthy portion of deep ruby cabernet sauvignon before filling her own glass an equal amount.

"What most people don't know about these Australian reds is that they really punch you in the face, so to speak. The trend these days is for reserved European styles, but I'd rather my wine have a bit of personality.”

Miranda takes a generous sip and smiles indulgently. “I got this imported you know, all the way from the Barossa Valley".

Jack’s experience with wine is limited. She takes a cautious sip. When she swallows, the wine leaves a strange texture in her mouth. The only thing she can compare it to is tea brewed way too fucking strong.

“So, I guess I called this as a kind of…” Miranda chooses her words carefully, “...truce.”

“The truth is that I've had a closer look at your file. Your history, what you've faced. I spoke to Shepard about the mission down on Pragia.” She pauses.

“I think I'm ready to revise my initial opinion of you” Miranda looks at Jack expectantly.

She’s smiling like she’s paid Jack such a compliment. Yeah well, Jack’s not buying it.

Jack crosses her arms. “So that’s all? I’m not as much of a jerk as you thought I was? Screw you!”

Miranda looks stung. 

“You care to _admit_ it was _Cerberus_ who fucked me over?” asks Jack. It’s a challenge. 

A silence fills the space between them.

 _‘Yeah, that’s what I thought’_ Jack thinks. Why would Miranda care about Jack or her feelings? Jack glares at the cheerleader, daring her to fess up. This whole situation has _Shepard_ written all over it.

“Well?”

It takes more than a moment for the cheerleader to respond. The corners of her mouth tighten. She pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs.

“Ok.”she says.

Reluctantly, the cheerleader continues,“after reviewing the evidence, I’ll admit that yes, there’s no denying it was Cerberus--” Miranda’s voice is as cool as ever. “--even if it was a splinter group,”

“I can assure you that from what I know of the rest of the cells, the rest of us are not quite so bloody barbaric” she adds.

It’s a shitty apology, but it sounds genuine.

“Yeah, well--.” Jack’s stops glaring at the cheerleader and starts _looking_ at the Cheerleader which is definitely a mistake. She tries her best to ignore the irritatingly warm, tingly feelings in her gut. She’s got to get a handle on herself. There must be something Miranda gets out of this. They’d practically promised to tear each other apart. Why would she back down now?

“Did Shepard put you up to this?” accuses Jack.

For a split second Miranda looks momentarily murderous. It’s replaced by a look of -- Jack’s not quite sure what -- embarrassment? That can’t be right.

“No-- I uhhh...”. The cheerleader falters for the first time Jack’s ever seen. “...I saw a different side to you back there on Aequitas.” she manages.

“I- I was impressed. I didn’t expect you to help me as much as you did. I wanted to thank you.” Miranda says.  

Jack scrutinises Miranda’s expression, but doesn’t detect any bullshit.There’s a pinkness to Miranda’s cheeks that must be from the wine.

Jack is perplexed. A few moments pass as they both stare out of the window. Miranda stares away from Jack very _deliberately_ . It’s strange for the cheerleader to be so flustered. She usually has everyone else at a disadvantage with her fucking _files._

Against her better judgement, Jack decides to give Miranda the benefit of the doubt.

“Well you’re not the worst Cerberus cunt I’ve come across” she says.

Miranda turns to raises her eyebrows at Jack. “Wow, thanks.” She snorts then takes a sip of her wine to unsuccessfully disguise a very faint smile.

Jack can’t let go of the curiosity that’s been plaguing her the last few days. “So, Cheerleader, you know everything about everyone. What’s your dirt?” Jack asks. 

"Well, I’ve had extensive genetic modification." says Miranda as if it explains everything.

“So? What does that mean?” Jack says.

"I mean that my father _designed_ me. I’m good at just about anything I put my mind to.” the cheerleader replies.

"Is that why you’re such a cold bitch?”

“Well I have been in schooling since day one. I learned to do as I was told and I became the best version of myself. Mind you, there were _consequences_ if I didn’t obey.”

“Yeah, what kind of consequences?” Jack scoffs, leaning back in her chair.

Miranda’s tone is light, but her face is deadly serious,“Oh, you know, the _usual. S_ hock bracelets, solitary confinement. Nothing that would damage my body too much. He couldn’t risk any harm coming to his _legacy_. He controlled everything in my life, kept me isolated, only cared about what I could do.”

This is -- not what Jack was expecting.

Miranda continues as if a dam inside her is bursting, “I’m just -- intellectual property to him. He’d have patented my genes if it was legal. I wasn’t his first daughter, just the first one he _kept._ " bitterness saturates Miranda’s tone.

“I can’t believe I’m telling you all of this.” Miranda takes a deep breath. “I just want you to _understand._ You of all people should know what it’s like to be -- _used_.”

Miranda looks to Jack, waiting on her answer.

Jack thinks back to Pragia, how the scientists pushed her as far as they could. They’d only cared about what she could do too. 

"Yeah, I do.” Jack says. “It’s pretty fucked up.”

Miranda visibly relaxes. “That’s certainly one word for it.”

There's another silence. Miranda looks out to the stars, clearly deep in thought. Jack’s mind is uncomfortably close to her childhood memories. She looks over to Miranda and decides to change the subject.

"I fucking hate your catsuit".

"Excuse me?" says Miranda.

"You just look so… _Cerberus_. So in control all of the time”.

"I am in control all the time. The suit helps me focus." Miranda retorts.

“Yeah, well with all you’ve just told me about being restricted all your life, it surprises me that you’d go for something so restrictive.” says Jack.

“If you put it on, you’d know that it isn’t. Suits like these are the galactic standard. It’s hygienic.”

“Yeah, until you take it off and the stink gets everywhere” responds Jack.

“The microfibre in the lining is specifically engineered so that it prevents that exact problem…”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it. You like being controlled”.

“That’s _not_ what I said!”

 

***

 

They continue bantering until the wine runs out and they both start yawning. Miranda’s got a stupid little smile on her face as Jack leaves for her own cot in engineering.  

“You know, despite the amount of arguing we did -- I had _fun_ Jack.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get sentimental Cheerleader” says Jack as she raises a hand in goodbye.

Miranda just scoffs.

 

***

 

Over the coming week, Jack and Miranda bump into each other more and more often. Jack reasons that there’s only so many places you can stay away from everyone else on one ship. They chat in the corridors and in the dinner lines. Miranda laughs more than Jack’s heard her laugh for a while.

On one particular occasion, Jack catches Miranda at the coffee machine. The cheerleader has a slight frown on her face; the last time they spoke, she mentioned some issues she’s been having with her reports. Jack leans up against the bench top beside her.

“Do you _ever_ let loose, Cheerleader?” she says.

Miranda’s frown vanishes and is replaced by an amused look. “Fuck off Jack.”

“Yeah, well I’m serious.”

“I’m supposing your alternative is becoming a walking train-wreck? Hunt down anyone that looks at me wrong? Have you ever planned _anything_ in your entire life?”

“I blew up Pragia didn’t I?”

“You’re only proving my point here. ”

“You’d be surprised at how good it feels.” Jack laces her fingers together and stretches her arms.

“Maybe.” Miranda snorts. “I’ve got a meeting with Shepard in a few minutes. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah.” Jack grins, she’s feeling giddy. She’s still leaning against the counter when Miranda leaves.

It’s getting harder and harder to ignore the confusing fuzzy feelings Jack gets when she sees Miranda. She’s not even sure why she gets them.

Whatever the feelings are, she wishes they would stop already. Having _feelings_ seems like a good way to end up getting screwed over. She should really keep her distance. For her own good.

 

***

 

Shepard announces that they’re headed back to Omega. Samara’s gotten to her; it’s for a personal favour. Something to do with a rogue asari. Jack doesn’t really care.

Jack’s had some good times on Omega. Afterlife, especially. There’s something about the filthy club that lends itself to forgetting real life. Nobody gives a damn about you, you don’t give a damn about them. You just dance and drink and do what you want. Even Shepard’s felt confident enough to dance there, and her dance moves are fucking awful. The only rules are to pay for your drinks, keep the fighting outside, and don’t piss of Aria. Jack smiles to herself.

Before she really knows what she’s doing, Jack’s halfway through a message to Miranda on her omnitool.

 

_“Hey Cheerleader._

_How about losing control for once. Meet me in Afterlife._

_Call it a favour from a friend.”_

 

Jack’s hand hovers over the ‘send’ icon. So much for staying away.

She presses send.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've also done a relatively quick painting of Miranda's dress :) . You can find it [here.](https://ikny-sketches.tumblr.com/post/168983831003/just-a-relatively-quick-one-its-been-ages-since)

Jack’s waiting impatiently at the downstairs bar, drink in hand. The Cheerleader’s late. Jack drums her fingers against the glass. At this point, she’s not sure if she’d prefer the cheerleader to come or stay away. She downs her drink, crosses her arms and digs her fingernails in. This was a stupid idea. There's no way Miranda gives a shit about her.

She looks out to the club. By design, the neon lights draw everyone’s immediate attention. They're dazzlingly bright. By the time visitors think to look to the darker spaces, their night-vision is shot. More often than not, their eyes will skim over the dark spaces. It’s one of the reasons why Afterlife is so favoured by people on the grey side of the law. That and the fact it’s on  _ Omega _ . 

The club does have an ethereal beauty to it though.The neon lights up particles of dust in the air. They float and swirl in a dizzying dance, reacting to the slightest movement. They echo the fluid bodies of the asari dancers -- or maybe it’s the other way around.

Of course that doesn’t mask the smell: sweat, dust, a bit of engine oil. There's the sound of mercs angrily debating how they should split the pay for their last job. Like everything on Omega, Afterlife is a bit rough when you look too closely. Jack prefers it that way. It feels more  _ real _ . 

After some time, Miranda finally walks in. She’s wearing a sleek black dress, Thick strapping criss-crosses over her breasts, leaving a triangle of her stomach exposed. The fabric hugs her hips and then drops straight down to the floor. She looks fucking  _ fantastic _ . 

“Wow,” says Jack. 

Miranda runs a hand through her hair. “It’s so  _ disgusting _ in here. I don’t know what you see in it. I need a shower already”. 

Miranda's lips are painted bright red tonight. Jack tears her eyes away. 

“Deal with it. You’re here to let loose.”

The cheerleader looks Jack up and down with faint disappointment. Jacks feels warm.

“Glad to see you put in an effort” she says. Jack’s wearing the same thing as always. 

Jack sniggers. “My job is to be your guide. Let’s get you a fucking drink.”

Jack orders Miranda a sangria and gets herself a bourbon. They choose some couches near the bar. Miranda sips on her sangria with a concealed smile.

“I’m not sure I’ll like this dancing business. I don’t think I’ll be any good” she says.

“Who gives a crap if you’re any good? Nobody here knows you or gives two shits about you.” Jack grins.

“Except you, obviously” Miranda says with a triumphant smirk. 

Jack’s face grows hot. “A-At the very least you can’t be as crap at dancing as Shepard.” she continues. 

“I guess we'll just have to find out. Consider me reassured.” Miranda smiles indulgently. 

 

***

 

It turns out that Miranda is much better at dancing than Shepard. Thank  _ fucking god.  _

After they both have had enough alcohol to stomach the dancefloor, Jack takes Miranda to a crowded level. The music is bassy. People are dancing wildly with no thoughts to  _ looks _ . Just as Jack knew it would be. She smiles at the slightly worried look on Miranda’s face. 

She gently takes Miranda’s hand and leads her into the fray. They carve out a little space for themselves. 

Jack immediately surrenders herself to the music. Miranda is slower to warm up,  but gradually she gets there and opens up to move where the music takes her.

The cheerleader looks so free, so much less tied down by her own expectations. She laughs upon noticing Jack’s gaze and says something that Jack can’t hear over the music. Jack shrugs back and laughs. 

After several songs, their dance ever closer to each other. Perhaps one or both of them are using biotic abilities drunk, because Jack may or may not be imagining a faint magnetic pull between them. Soon they are dancing with barely inches apart. Jack feels more intoxicated than she has any right to be. Miranda's face is so happy and so close and her lips are so red and Jack's heart is beating like she's in a firefight. The world starts to blur. 

"You know, I’ve figured it out.” Jack says in a low voice, leaning close to Miranda’s ear.

It takes Miranda a moment to realise Jack has spoken. She twiddles with her omnitool and opens a private channel. Jack repeats herself. 

“Figured what out?” Miranda responds lightly. Her voice is clear in Jack’s earpiece. 

“What you actually like about that suit is how it makes that fantastic ass of yours look". Jack responds with a grin and a roll of her shoulders. 

“Would you rather I have a less  _ fantastic  _ ass?” Miranda says innocently, a sly smile creeping around the edge of her features. She bends her knees and drops her ass to the floor, rising it slowly.

Well she’s got Jack on that one. 

Miranda’s eyes dart down to Jack's almost-bare chest and back again. She looks pleased. Jack gets a fluttery feeling in her stomach. 

“You don't leave much to the imagination” she says.

"I like to be -- upfront about things” responds Jack. She can smell Miranda’s perfume . 

Jack continues. “You know cheerleader, you’re always so in control of yourself. I’ve never seen you do something stupid. Something impulsive.” She’s not really sure what she’s doing, but she puts a hand on Miranda's hip for emphasis. She can hear a sharp intake of breath.

Miranda rests one arm on Jack’s shoulder in response.“Is that a  _ dare _ ” she asks, smirking. 

They’re so close that Jack can detect the soft thrum of Miranda's biotics, just above her skin. Jacks heart is beating something crazy. 

“It could be”. Jack responds.

Miranda smiles wickedly. God her lips are beautiful. “So you think I should  give it a go?” she asks.

“Give what a go?” Jack is distracted by her own heartbeat. 

“Impulsiveness” Miranda responds.

“That’s what I’ve been-- “

Miranda kisses Jack. 

God her lips are so soft. Jacks makes a noise deep in her throat and  _ melts _ . Jack’s other hand finds Miranda’s hip and pulls her tight. The music drums in her ears. If only this moment would last forever. 

They part, slowly. Miranda is still so temptingly close. The warm-fuzzy part of Jack’s mind usually reserved for violence is on fire. A furnace is inside of her. There’s an especially fluttery feeling in her stomach and between her legs. She wants more, so much more. She wants to get inside Miranda and make her scream. 

It's clicked. Jack's wanted this for quite some time, but she wouldn't let herself realise. 

“Why do you look so shocked?” Miranda asks with a laugh. 

Jack struggles for words.“I didn..t, I thought…”

“This was very clearly a date, Jack.” Miranda has an all-knowing smile on her face.

Miranda leans in and places a quick peck on the side of Jack's cheek. “I’ve got a confession, you know. I'll tell you why I really invited you for drinks at my office”. 

“Oh?” The sweetness of Miranda’s lips still lingers on Jack’s. 

“Because you're so bloody gorgeous.” Miranda looks almost angry with herself. “I couldn't stop thinking about you. I had to do something. I told myself you'd spit in my face, force me to hate you again” says Miranda. 

“Well that plan backfired”Jack says. 

“You did spit in my face a little bit” Miranda responds with a grimace.

“So, are you going to continue your promise to help let me loose?” the cheerleader asks.

There might be nobody watching the dancing, but what Jack wants to do to Miranda right now might not slide. 

 

***

 

After further dancing, they head back to the Normandy. It’s late in the cycle. Nobody is up except the skeleton crew. There's nobody down in engineering. The rumours about Daniels and Donnelly might just be true. 

They walk arm in arm down to Jack’s cot. Dim red right diffuses through the space. The drive core pulses through the walls and floor. 

With a smile, Jack pushes Miranda up against a wall and kisses her like there's no tomorrow. Miranda wraps her legs around Jack’s torso and fiddles impatiently with the straps on her harness. 

They collapse into Jack's cot. It's far too small and they bump into the crates. Miranda's mouth latches onto Jacks neck. Her hands find Jacks breasts. Jack has to barely restrain herself from yelping. 

Miranda squeezes her knees around Jack and levers herself uptight. She lifts her dress off her head. Jacks whole body is aching. She runs her fingers along Miranda's now bare sides. How many people have seen the cheerleader like this? She's so uptight that Jack is surprised she knows what she's doing at all.The thought is extinguished as Miranda struggles with Jack's pants. Jack smirks and helps her get them off. 

Jack grins. Tonight, she is going to get under Miranda’s skin. Tonight, she has the opportunity to fuck the real Miranda, faults and all. She'll rocket past that perfect exterior and shatter them both in the most hedonistic way possible. Like a true psychotic biotic. 

In the morning, they'll wake sore and stiff. Quietly pick up the pieces of each other. They'll grimace and place deliberately gentle, light kisses on each other. 

Over strong coffee, they’ll smile stupidly at each other and, paradoxically, feel better than they have in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas / Happy Holidays everyone! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! :)


End file.
